“Awesome.” Brittany didn’t bother to hide her sarcasm. “Just frickin’ awesome.”
“If you can stay another half hour,” Miss Stacy suggested, “we have a new student that you could teach.” She offered Brittany a plastic smile. “See, all is not lost.”
Brittany glowered for a second, then finally muttered, “Fine,” and stormed up the steps to the office. Miss Stacy sent a quick, disapproving glance at Chloe, who was still happily plying the goats with straw. Then she turned to follow Brittany into the office.
“Drama at the horse barns,” Nikki muttered. For a fleeting second, she considered complaining about the rude woman. She, or at least Lily, was a paying customer and—
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
Retrieving it, she saw Pierce’s name and face appear. “About time,” she declared, then clicked on. “I was beginning to think you were ghosting me!”
“Just busy.”
“Yeah? I’ve been calling and texting all day.”
“I know.” He was serious. Dead serious. “This is the first chance I’ve had to call.”
So something was up. “Has there been a break in the case?” she asked. Damn it, why hadn’t she paid more attention to the news cycle on her phone?
“No. It’s something else,” he said and despite the heat settling in the building, she felt a chill run down her spine.
“Okay. I’m listening.”
“It’s Naomi Kittle. She’s missing.”
“What do you mean, ‘missing’?”
“Just that,” he said, and her gaze moved from Chloe and the small goat, through the door to the black crew cab parked in the lot. Knox Quinlan, in low-slung battered jeans, an open-collar shirt, and scuffed cowboy boots, stood near his big rig, his gaze fastened on the empty lane.
“After Jamison called this morning,” Pierce said, “and I went over to his house, he told me she didn’t come home last night.”
Nikki watched as Knox paced and squinted down the road, while Pierce explained Jamison’s story about how Naomi had dropped off her daughters with her sister in Charleston and then never returned. The police in both South Carolina and Georgia were looking for heror her car, and so far nothing. No friends knew where she was, and she hadn’t ended up in a hospital ER. Jamison was currently picking up his daughters from Naomi’s sister.
“Has anyone talked to Quinlan?” Nikki asked, watching as the tall man was now talking on his phone. But the conversation was short. Maybe just leaving a message?
“No. Why?”
In obvious frustration, Quinlan jammed the phone into a worn back pocket and kicked at a stone on the asphalt to send it flying.
“I’m here at the riding academy picking up Phee, and Quinlan is, too, and it looks like he’s waiting for someone who isn’t showing. I’m guessing it’s Naomi Kittle.”
“What?” If possible, Pierce’s voice became tenser.
“I guess they meet here,” she said and, from the corner of her eye saw Phee, lugging her bag and helmet, walking from the stable area toward the main entrance. Nikki waved to her niece and said into the phone, “I saw them talking the other day and, like I said, he’s here now, and it looks like he’s waiting for her. Is that a big deal?”
“I don’t know,” Pierce admitted. “Maybe. Remember I told you once that Jamison came back to Savannah and swept Naomi off her feet? That she was engaged to someone else?”
“Right.”
“That guy was Knox Quinlan.”
“Oh.”
“And he’s got a record,” he added grimly.
Chapter 31
“Knox Quinlan?” Nikki repeated, remembering that he was part of the good ol’ boys club of the elders of All Christian Church.
